The Space-Kidnapping
by Nehszriah
Summary: Danny finally gets dragged along on an adventure, and the result isn't exactly his idea of a fun time. [AU where Danny and Clara already talked post-ItFotN and they're both alive and the Doctor don't care when he walks in on them because there's stuff to see]


A/N: Sometimes, when I have the availability to fulfill prompts, I open up a window of time for people to submit an idea to my writing tumblr. This is the product of one of those times.

Prompt was "Clara somehow gets captured, Danny and Twelve squabble and compete over who will save her. Meanwhile, she saves herself, stops the Monster of the Week, and is generally unimpressed."

* * *

The Space-Kidnapping

"I am never, _ever_ trusting you ever again as long as I live," Danny hissed. Three hours ago the TARDIS had materialized in his sitting room, with the Doctor almost spilling out and shoving both him and Clara in the ship despite his protests and the declaration that it was Date Night. It had been an emergency, it was explained, that there was little time to waste, and that it was only going to take a moment. Clara had laughed and said to relax and that if the Doctor said it would only take a moment, it was likely only going to take a moment.

Three hours hence, he was, instead, crouched down behind some crates in some sort of space-warehouse, hiding from the space-mafia, which happen to be comprised of literal giant cockroaches that captured his girlfriend within two minutes of exiting the spaceship, and the only assistance he had was…

…his grey-haired, wire-thin, clearly neurotic, _space-kidnapper._

"Okay, so, PE, I'm going to need you to be a distraction," the Doctor said, handing him a watch. Danny took it and recognized the device as the same one Clara had given him the day the killer robot had threatened the school. He put it on, but gave the Doctor a critical look.

"Hey, if this makes me invisible, then why can't _I_ just go in and save her?" he asked. "Why do I have to be a _distraction_?"

"Because that just gets you by the guards," the Doctor explained. "The Flexxions have thermal vision instead of what you and I see. I need _you_ to get past the guards and disable the shields. Mess with them a little bit while I go in and free Clara before they know what's going on."

"I'm not simply going to follow orders," Danny grumbled. "What are the chances this isn't going to go horribly wrong, _General_?"

"If you stop complaining, we'll have a slightly better chance to walk out of this alive. Otherwise, we're running." The Doctor took a remote control-looking device from his pocket and started fiddling with it. "Besides, Clara told me that you had a really bad day once. Wouldn't want you to repeat anything like that."

Danny's nostrils flared. "Don't you dare pity me. Just go get that box of yours and I'll get Clara and we can go back home, leaving exploding sunsets for some other, less dangerous time."

A grin parted the Doctor's lips as he glanced over at Danny. "You're jealous, aren't you?" he asked. "Feeling put-out because all you have are some football plays at your disposal?"

"No, I'm _not_," Danny replied. It was the truth—if he had been jealous of the Doctor he would have asked Clara to cut off her relationship with the Doctor long ago and not urge her to make up with him after they had fought. If he felt any sort of emotion towards the intergalactic stick-insect it was annoyance for his lack of bothering to use his actual name. "I just don't understand _why_ Clara lets you do this to her. She's not the kind that needs to be rescued, and that's part of why I like her to begin with, but right now she is in need of rescuing. Why is that?"

"We were just unlucky this time—it doesn't happen often," the Doctor shrugged. "Just be glad the Flexxions are in want of a moll and didn't grab you instead."

Scrunching his face in disgust, Danny cringed at the thought. "I still say it's more appropriate for me to go get her."

"Tch—you wouldn't last five minutes out there without my help," the Doctor snorted. "What are you going to make them do? Run laps?"

"Down, Doctor," a voice deadpanned. Both men snapped their attention towards the voice and found Clara standing there with a rather unamused expression on her face. Her hair was frizzed and her skirt was singed and the twitching antennae of one of the space-cockroach-mafia-men was clasped tightly in the hand not resting on her hip. "Now come on; we've got about seven minutes before they realize that's not me tied in the chair."

"Wait, how did you…?" Danny asked, looking up at his girlfriend in confusion. "We were just…"

"I appreciate the thought, though I think if I can talk my way out of becoming Queen of Sherwood Forest, I can figure out a couple dumb bugs. Speaking of dumb bugs," she dropped the antennae on the floor between them, "you owe me a good one after this."

"Oh, come on Clara… I thought you'd like it here," the Doctor said, giving her what Danny could only see as a pout.

"Tahiti, pre-people, a week." She then turned on her heel and began to walk towards the warehouse exit. Danny and the Doctor scrambled to their feet and followed close behind, both men wondering where they sat in the makeup equation, though not wanting to find out the answer quite yet.


End file.
